The day of the school field trip, I had a hundred-and-four-degree fever.

Mom didn't care whether I lived or died. She took my brother and walked out the door.

Before leaving, she turned to Grandma. "Keep an eye on her, Mom. Don't let her make a fuss."

Grandma came into my room. She looked at the sweat soaking through my sheets, and her face twisted with disgust.

"What a nuisance," she said. "It's just a fever. You're not dying. Stop being so dramatic."

She ripped the blanket off me, grabbed my arm, and dragged me out of bed.

"A little cold will knock a fever right out. Doctors and medicine are just a waste of money."

I stumbled and fell to my knees, kowtowing frantically, my forehead cracking against the tile floor with dull, hollow thuds.

"Grandma, I'm sorry, I know I was wrong, please, don't put me in the freezer. I'll die!"

She ignored me completely. She opened the chest freezer, shoved me inside, and pushed the lid down.

"You're not going to die. Take a nap, sweat it out. I'll let you out when I get back from my card game."

Bang! The lid slammed shut. Then came the click of the padlock snapping into place.

I pounded against the walls with everything I had, but my breathing was already slowing. Every sound I made was swallowed by the steady drone of the compressor.

I didn't know how long it had been.

Ice crystals formed on my lips. My vision blurred. My eyelids grew unbearably heavy.

Before I lost consciousness entirely, only one silent, delirious thought remained.

Grandma.

Kate Dickerson knows she was wrong.

Next life, I promise I'll never get a fever again.

...

I thought my life was going to end right there.

Then came the sound of a key turning in the front door.

"Herbert! Honey! Mom! I'm home!"

That familiar voice. It was like a spark catching fire inside my chest.

It was Dad.

Dad was home!

But almost instantly, my heart sank.

How could it be?

It had to be a hallucination.

Dad was away on a business trip. There was no way he was back.

Mom had taken my brother out. Grandma had gone to play cards.

There was no one home.

Despair swallowed me again.

Through the haze, I heard footsteps drawing closer.

My eyes flew open.

Riiip.

The crisp, wet sound of my frozen eyelids tearing apart rang in my ears.

My body was encased in ice. I couldn't move at all.

A desperate idea surged into my mind.

Ignoring the pain, I twisted my head and slammed it against the wall of the freezer.

I told myself, just once. Just one hit.

If Dad heard the noise, he would find me.

And then I would be saved.

A flicker of hope sparked inside me. I thought I'd found my lifeline.

Bang! The sharp crack of my skull against the freezer wall rang out at the exact same moment as a phone ringtone.

"Honey, you took Herbert on the field trip?"

"Great. Text me when you get there tonight, and I'll come pick you up."

"How's Kate doing? Still at home throwing a tantrum?"

It was Mom's voice.

I knew it. Mom did love me. She was still asking about me.

"I haven't seen her," Dad said. "Mom probably took her out somewhere."

"That girl is so spoiled. Just because we didn't take her on the trip, she starts faking sick for attention."

Dad let out a sigh, his voice cool and detached.

"I don't know where she picked it up, but now she's learned how to compete for attention."

The tiny flame that had just flickered to life inside me went out in an instant.

Mom, I wasn't lying. I really do have a fever.

Why won't you believe me?

Then Grandma's voice came from outside.

"Son! When did you get back?"

"A little while ago."

"Mom, where's Kate? Didn't she go out with you?"

Dad finally asked about me.

I thought Grandma would open the padlock on the freezer and let me out.

I waited. And waited.

Praying for Grandma to remember me.

"She wasn't with me."

"She was throwing a tantrum before I left, so I just ignored her."

Grandmother paused for a moment.

Then she let out a little gasp. "That girl's been disobedient since the day she was born. You don't think she ran away from home, do you?"

I couldn't remember what Grandmother said after that to turn Dad against me.

All I remembered was the sound.

A deafening boom inside my skull, like something had detonated behind my eyes.

Grandmother had forgotten about me.

Through the haze, I thought I saw Mom's face, twisted and contorted.

Her agonized screams echoed in my ears.

"If you hadn't been born a girl, my life wouldn't be this miserable."

"Why did you have to be born at all? It would've been better if you'd just died!"

Then came Dad, his eyes bloodshot, bringing the belt down on Mom's body, lash after lash.

"Worthless woman. All these years and you can't even give me a son. What good are you?"

"You gave me a money pit, and you think you have the right to talk back?"

And finally, Grandmother at the dinner table, rapping my knuckles with her chopsticks, her face vicious.

"Money pit. You don't lift a finger around here, but you sure know how to eat."

"If I'd known you'd turn out to be a money pit, I would've drowned you in the outhouse the day you were born!"

In the chorus of their curses, something inside me suddenly let go.

The cold began to fade. The pain in my body started to dissolve, piece by piece.

I knew then. I was finally free.

Mom, Dad, Grandmother.

Without me in this family, will you finally be happy?

I was sitting on top of the freezer now, and when I looked down, I could see the small, frozen figure inside.

That was me.

No warmth. No weight. So this was what death felt like.

Grandmother and Dad were chatting about something, laughing easily, as if they didn't have a care in the world.

Then Dad glanced at his watch and shot up from the couch.

"Mom, start cooking. I'm going to pick up Herbert Dickerson and Lisa."

"Alright." Grandmother was already heading for the kitchen. "I'll get the ribs stewing. My grandson needs a good, hearty meal."

I watched her bustling around the kitchen.

From start to finish, she never noticed the padlock on the freezer. She never once opened it.

An hour later.

The front door swung open and my brother came barreling in.

He was wearing a pair of light-up sneakers, running back and forth in front of Grandmother.

"Grandma, look! Aren't my shoes cool?"

"So cool. My handsome grandson looks good in everything." Grandmother gazed at him, her face soft with adoration.

Light-up sneakers. I'd mentioned those to Mom once.

She beat me for it.

"If it weren't for your school subsidies, you think I'd even let you go to school?"

"I gave you a chance to make something of yourself, and instead of studying hard, you learned how to be jealous of what other kids have."

I never brought it up again.

But when my brother mentioned something he wanted, even in passing, they remembered. They always remembered.

Everything Herbert wanted, he got without effort.

Everything I wanted stayed a dream.

Because I was just a bucket of water, destined to be poured out sooner or later.

Herbert was the bloodline of this family. The only heir.

"Lisa, where's Kate? I haven't seen her."

"Her? Probably still off somewhere sulking. She hasn't come back!"

Slap!

Mom's palm cracked against the table so hard it shook.

"That girl is out of control!"

"How old is she now, still throwing tantrums?"

Grandmother set the rib soup on the table and looked at Herbert, her eyes warm and doting.

"If that money pit's really gone, good riddance."

"She's nothing like our Herbert here. So well-behaved, so sensible!"

Dad let out a sigh, his gaze sharp and cold.

"That girl's run off somewhere wild."

"If she comes back tonight, I'll break her legs!"

Dad, I'm never coming back to this house again.

Before dinner, Herbert spotted something on his phone—a circus performing at the town square at eight o'clock. He pointed at the screen, at a lion leaping through a ring of fire, his face lit up with excitement.

"Mom, I wanna go!"

"Sure!"

Mom barely glanced at the screen before agreeing.

During dinner, Herbert happened to look across the table.

That was my seat. It sat empty.

"Mom, where's Kate?"

At the mention of me, Mom placed a peeled shrimp into Herbert's bowl and shot an impatient glance at my empty chair.

"Her? Who knows where she's wandered off to."

"Our little Herbert is the good one—obedient, well-behaved, never makes Mom and Dad worry."

My heart clenched.

So ghosts could feel pain after all.

It finally hit me.

They never loved me. Even now that I was dead, they couldn't think of a single good thing about me.

Herbert shoveled rice into his mouth, pausing every few bites to wheedle and charm Mom and Dad. Laughter rose from the table, easy and warm, the three of them together.

I watched their happy little family and understood: without me was when they were happiest.

After dinner, Grandma cleared the table, wiped the water from her hands, and turned to head back to her room.

Herbert grabbed her hand. "Grandma, I want you to come with us."

Grandma's eyes glistened. She stroked Herbert's head.

"Be good. You all go have fun. Grandma will stay home."

Herbert looked at Mom with a pout. "Mom, if Grandma doesn't go, I'm not going either."

Mom and Dad couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine, we'll all go."

From start to finish, everyone was perfectly in sync.

No one mentioned me. No one suggested going out to look for me.

Why isn't Kate home yet?

What if something happened to her?

Nobody asked. As if I had never been part of this family at all.

They opened the door, and I followed them into the car.

I sat beside Herbert, watching Grandma play and joke with him the whole ride.

When they arrived, the square was already packed. Food stalls lined both sides, the air thick with grease and sugar. Herbert jumped out of the car and made a beeline for the takoyaki stand.

Mom watched him run off. No scolding crossed her face—only indulgence.

I remembered the year I turned eight. Mom had taken Herbert and me to a lantern festival. I asked for a candy apple, and she snapped at me.

"All you ever think about is eating. Didn't we just have dinner at home?"

"Already hungry again? Look at your brother—see how well-behaved he is."

Herbert stuck his tongue out at me, then bolted toward a trampoline across the way.

"Mom, I wanna play on that!"

Mom's expression transformed in an instant. "Okay, sweetheart. Mommy's coming."

After that, I never asked my parents for anything again.

Because I knew. In their eyes, there was only Herbert.

The circus music started, and Herbert was the first to push his way to the front.

The show began.

Monkeys riding bicycles. Lions leaping through rings of fire. Sea lions balancing balls on their noses. One act after another, each more dazzling than the last. The crowd erupted in applause.

Then, right at the peak of the performance, a woman came tearing through the crowd like she'd lost her mind.

She grabbed at every person she passed.

"Have you seen my daughter? She's wearing a white princess dress. She was right here waiting for me just a minute ago."

One by one, people shook their heads. No one had seen her.

The woman's face crumpled with guilt. She slapped herself, again and again.

"This is my fault. This is all my fault."